


The (blind) New Girl

by originalPseudonym



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Humanstuck, It's Hard and Nobody Understands, this has no plot just so you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2017-12-27 11:36:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/978404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/originalPseudonym/pseuds/originalPseudonym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Vriska Serket, and you don't have many friends. None, actually.</p><p>Until you meet Terezi Pyrope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You’re trying to decide if you want to light yourself on fire, the teenagers around you on fire, or a combination of the two.

 

Your name is Vriska Serket, and you are pissed off, as per usual.

You are currently attempting to weave your way through the crowded hallways that define your high school. You attempt, to no avail, because a group of kids in the hall decide it is a wonderful idea to stop right in the middle of the hallway, thirty seconds before the bell rings. This of course happens the moment you make the conscious decision to try to make your trek across the school in the allotted five minutes.

You think it’s ridiculous that all these people are still out here, and completely ignore the fact that you are one of them. You would think by now you would be past the point of frustration and anger, because something akin to this has happened every school day since you first started attending two and a half years ago, but no. You still manage to be angry.

You demonstrate this with a muttered, “move the fuck out of my way” and a shove to one boy’s shoulder.

You continue to push right through them and you hear a called out “Bitch!” from behind. You glace back with a sneer, but keep walking, because you’re you’d rather not risk the tardy and a call home. You aren’t sure if you have the energy to deal with your mom.

Your plan to finally get to Chemistry on time for the first time this semester is foiled exactly 8 steps after you pass the group of kids.

And of course, you happen to be the only one lucky enough to have a girl with a mess of red hair slam into you. You let an explicative fly in the form of insult.

You’ll say later that she ran into you, which even though is not completely accurate, it still is somewhat. She was moving quickly. In the back of your mind you know that the girl was probably just trying to make it to her class. Not that you care. The only thing you care about now is yourself, and how the she somehow manages to kick you on her way down to the ground. You hear the bell ring.

“Goddammit, now I’m late! Thanks a lot.”

For a moment, you are pissed enough to not help her up. You look down, and then realize that she didn’t kick you, but instead whacked you with the white and red cane that clattered to the ground along with her. Your eyes trail to hers, and upon noticing the red tinged glasses and foggy eyes you also realize that you’re in deep shit.

“Uh. Shit, sorry,” you say, bending down and frantically picking up a book of hers. She frowns and smacks your hand when she hears you pick up her cane.

“Just help me up.”

“Right, um. Yeah. Sorry,” you stumble over yourself to reach out your hand. She continues to sit there and looks none too impressed.

 Right, blind.

You grab her hand and hoist her up. You hand her the book, a bit too forcefully and the surprise of it knocks her back a bit. You mentally kick yourself.

She grips the cane and, despite your actions, grins before speaking. “Thanks, now I’m going to class. Try not to run over any more blind people.”

With that, she heads off into the direction she was going, and you gape after her, before you remember that you’re also late. You run to your class, as if being late a minute instead of a minute and a half will make any difference.

 

* * *

 

 

She is in your sixth period history class.

You almost bite your tongue off, because really, these sorts of things only happen to you.

Your teacher introduces her as Terezi Pyrope and guides her to the back of the room and stops next to the empty seat to your left.

“I’ll have you sit next to Vriska,” he says, and then goes back to the front. She turns to face you with a smile and a hello.

You think about not answering her, but you decide she might not recognize your voice. “Hey.”

She smiles wider. “Look who it is!” she whispers, but somehow manages to seem loud at the same time. Not volume-wise, but energy-wise. She looks thoughtful for a second. “Well, not look. You understand my point.” You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Yeah.” Eloquent as ever, Serket.

“I’m Terezi Pyrope,” she says, extending her hand.

“No shit,” you say, because you’re an idiot. Her grin doesn’t falter and her arm remains hanging in the air. You hesitate. “Vriska Serket,” you say, taking her hand for the second time that day. This time you notice how soft her hands are.

And for the second time that day, you realize you are in deep shit.

 

* * *

 

 

Your history teacher keeps you up until the bell rings. When it does ring, you attempt to jump out of your seat and run out of the class. This is stopped, however, with a cane to the back of your leg.

“Ow! What the hell?” You say, a little dramatically.

“Where do think you’re going Serket? You owe it to me to help me find my bus!” she says with a cackle.

You huff. You try to tell her that you don’t owe her shit, but it comes out as a, “Fine, but just this once.”

“I only need once!” she says, almost proudly. You notice that she’s a pretty…excitable person. Yeah, excitable. “I’ll be able to find my way by myself after that.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you reply, as if this is a situation that is causing you great irritation. In reality, it is only causing you minor irritation.

Her cane clacks as you make your way through the hallway. People move out of her way when they see her coming. Maybe you should become blind too. You tell her as much.

“Physically _and_ mentally abusive to the handicapped! When will the sins end?” she exclaims, but doesn’t look as offended as she should be. Damn.

“Would you rather I make fun of your height? You got to be what, four foot three? “

“That’s just illogical. I’m five foot four, which, for the record, is not that short at all! Maybe you’re just a giant!” You frown even more than you already are doing so. You are pretty tall.

“Did I hit a soft spot,” she continues, picking up on your pause. You think that if she smiles and wider her cheeks will rip open or something. “Do people make fun of you for being tall?” Her voice lowers into something like mock-sympathy. “It’s okay, I’m here for you.”

“Fuck off,” you say, but you think she thinks that you don’t mean it. Maybe you don’t.

She brings her hand to her chest, “You wound me, Serket,” she says with a grimace. She ruins it by breaking it into laughter. When you smile you make a mental note to slap yourself later, even though she can’t see it.

But, maybe she isn’t that bad. At least she’s amusing.

“So,” she starts as you walk out the doors, “aren’t you going to ask me where I moved here from?”

You almost do, but that would seem like you care. “No, I’m not.” you say instead, and she laughs. She does that a lot, you notice. “What’s the route number?”

“Forty-three,” she says, and you show her the right bus. Because even though you’re an asshole, you aren’t _that_ much of an asshole. She starts to get on, but you stop her.

"Wait, how do you get home from your bus stop? Since, you’re, you know. Blind.”

“Sorry, that is classified information for blind eyes only!” With that, she boards the bus.

Your name is Vriska Serket, and you think you may have made a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Title: Unnecessary and Excessive Blind Jokes


	2. Chapter 2

The walk to your house is three miles. Not too bad, in theory. Unless it’s cold. Or raining. Then it’s bad. Like now, when it’s cold and raining.

Its days like this that you consider sucking it up and actually taking a bus. There’s a stop that’s relatively close to your house, only about half a mile away. But then you remember the reason for not taking the bus.

(It involved your freshman year, a piece of gum, your hair, and a black eye.)

So you walk. Past the suburban neighborhoods, and into the beginning of the countryside.

Your mom currently works the night shift at the 24-hour Wal-Mart in town. You were surprised she even got a job after how she ended up getting fired from her last one.

(It involved a coworker, a disagreement over a parking space, and a black eye.)

God, you hate your mom.

You’re pretty sure that the only thing that saved you from being homeless while she was unemployed was your aunt and the insane amount of irons in the fire she had. When she died, she left your mom a shitty house with a lot of farm land. Why your aunt had owned a shit ton of farm land in the Midwestern United States is completely beyond you, considering she lived in Scotland. Your aunt was a strange lady. But she was pretty cool, before she was stabbed.

Not much you can do about that.

There’s not as much land as there was in the beginning, mostly because your mom sold chunks of it off to either a) use for gambling money, or b) pay the bills when she had spent all her money gambling. Not to say that there still isn’t a lot left. All the land was nice when you were little, even if you were still out by yourself playing. Now it just makes you feel lonely.

But these thoughts barely filter through your mind, and you block them out because you have more important things to do with your life than think about stupid things.

You skip actually opening the oversized metal gates that open to the unpaved driveway that leads to your house, and climb over to save time. Plus, you’ve got to be like, a pro gate climber now.

You jump from the top of the gate, and even though it isn’t that high up, the pain reverberates through your feet and up your legs. You wince. You wish you had some better quality shoes. Or at least ones that were made in the last decade. But things are the way they are, and being a fucking chump about it isn’t going to change anything.

* * *

 

When you get home, you play shitty online MMO games. You play with the sound turned down so low you can barely hear it, because your mom is sleeping and you don’t own earphones. After the third consecutive hour, your vision is blurring so rub your eyes under your glasses. You stretch your legs and remember you’ve had to pee for an hour. So you do so.

You wander back to your room that looks like its seen better days, or at least seen something at one point. You doubt it could see anything now, ground being covered with anything imaginable and walls covered in posters, were it an actual thing that could see. Which it isn’t. This metaphor is stupid.

But anyways, you make it back to your room just in time to hear the water running. Your mom must be up. You go into the kitchen and grab yourself some ramen and make it with the microwave, making sure to get back to your room before she gets out of the shower.

You lie sideways on your mattress and eat your ramen without spilling anything on yourself, a skill learned through years of practice and inherent dexterity. You have a bright future ahead of you.

You don’t, however, try your luck by attempting to use your laptop at the same time. You aren’t quite at that level yet. But someday.

As you eat what may very well be your staple diet, your mind drifts to Terezi. You think about annoyingly annoying her laugh is. And how annoyingly attractive her face is.

What.

You wonder how she ended up getting home. After some pondering, you decide she probably had someone lead her back. Or maybe she just walked back on her own. You think she could manage it. You wish you asked her for her phone number. That way you could send her texts that the phone would read out her in that phone robot voice. That’d be pretty cool. You’ll have to ask her tomorrow, exactly like that, in the most irritating way possible.

You conclude that she doesn’t seem as bad as some people you come into contact with. She seems like she has a spine. Maybe you won’t scare her off. Maybe she won’t talk shit about you to others. Maybe she’ll just talk shit about you, to you.

A girl can dream, anyway. You’ll just have to wait and see.

* * *

 

An hour later, you’re doing your math homework.

It comes as a surprise to people when they find out that you get your homework done. They think you don’t give enough of a shit. What they’re missing is that they are completely right. But, you don’t have much else to do, so you usually get it done. Also, you don’t like it when people meddle, especially teachers. Doing your homework prevents that.

So, you are doing your homework. Halfway through, your mom decides to pay you a visit before she goes to work. She shows this by slamming open your door.

“What did I tell you about having this door closed?” She demands.

“Sorry,” you say, monotone.

“No you’re not. I don’t want you doing shit you ain’t supposed to be doing in here. Next time I’m taking it off its hinges,” she threatens, for like the eight billionth time.

“Okay.”

“‘Okay,’” she mocks, voice droning low. “What are you, a fucking robot?”

Silence.

“I asked you a fucking question.”

“Sorry,” is all you say.

“You’re damn right you’re sorry,” she says. Forgetting what she said about twenty seconds ago, she slams your door on her way out.

You go back to your math homework.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can be summed up by saying, "Vriska is a dork and has mommy issues." I like the shorter version better.


	3. Chapter 3

You find out a few more things about Terezi Pyrope the next day at school.

The first thing isn’t about Terezi exactly, but about her schedule. When your lunch period starts, you begin to make your way outside with your lunch to sit in your corner when you hear someone call your name behind you.

You jump a little, and almost start to worry a bit because people calling out your name usually never means anything good, but you don’t worry. Because you don’t worry.

But, you figure out who was calling you and relax.

But just a little bit, because it’s Terezi sitting at a table with Nepeta Leijon and Equius Zahhak. Terezi has her hand in the air and is facing a little to the left of you. You were almost outside too.

You decide Terezi was probably talking to them about you, because who can resist talking about you? They saw you, so they called you over. Coming to this conclusion does not stop you from asking Terezi how she knew where you were as you sit down. You make sure to mention that you’re asking this question because she’s blind.

“Vriska, that’s not very nice,” Nepeta says with a frown.

“I do agree with Nepeta. It is not very proper to point out one’s disability.” Equius looks uncomfortable, as always.

“I don’t care,” you say simply. Equius crosses his arms, but doesn’t say anything.

Equius is probably the only person you actually talk to regularly, or at least more regularly than everyone else. Apparently he’s related to you somehow? You don’t actually know the specifics. You don’t really care, either.

“It’s okay, Vriska’s lack of human decency and social capabilities don’t bother me in the least!” Terezi says, snapping her teeth when she smiles afterwards. You pick at your food. When you notice her shirt, you find out a second thing about Terezi Pyrope.

“Are you _seriously_ wearing a shirt with dragons on them?” You ask, incredulously. “How old even are you?”

She just laughs.

“And also, what could you possibly gain from wearing dragon shirts anyways?”

“I _like_ dragons,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Why does Nepeta wear shirts with cats on them?” You stare at her.

“How do you even know-“

“Vriska I swear if you ask me one more time how I can do things and be blind at the same time I will poke your eyes out and make you figure it out on your own.” When you gape at her, she cackles.

Okay, you take back everything you said about Terezi being not too bad.

She’s fucking insane.

* * *

 

When your history teacher pairs you up with her for a research project, you stare him down like he’s an idiot.  Because, apparently, he is.

Your teacher announces that you will all have a few minutes to plan when and where you will work on the project. Terezi is ecstatic in the seat next to you.

“We have to go the library after school tomorrow,” she says, and now it’s her turn to get a stare down.

“No.”

“Oh don’t tell me you’re one of _those_ people,” she says.

“Yeah I’m one of ‘those’ people, so fuck you,” you say. “I get my work done, but I don’t run to the library and get it done right away like a fucking nerd.” You cringe. You just used the word ‘nerd’ as an actual insult. She raises her eyebrows at you. “Shut up.”

This, of course, sends her into laughter. But it doesn’t last long, and she becomes sober fast.

“Seriously, Vriska. I’m not getting anything less than an A because you’re too lazy to go to the library.”

“Why can’t we just use the internet? I mean yeah, we’re _supposed_ to use a source from a book but I mean, where do you think the websites get it from?” It’s a pretty sound argument, you think. But Terezi’s having none of it.

“That’s cheating!” she exclaims, slapping your arm. You think she starts to pout a little.

“Fiiiiiiiine. Whatever,” you say in a huff, because maybe you are a chump.

“Great!” she says, as if that’s what she expected you to say all along. You sigh.

“We could get started today if you want,” she says, and you’re already shaking your head no, whether or not she can see it.

“We have two whole weeks. That’s like, a lifetime.”

“No,” she says, grinning, “it’s two weeks.” You roll your eyes.

“You aren’t nearly as funny as you pretend to be,” you say.

“And you aren’t nearly as mean as you pretend to be!” she says, and she must be able to sense your scowl, because she cackles.

“What does that even _mean_?”

“Oh, I think you know what it means.”

“No, I really don’t.”

“Yes you do!”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“God dammit,” you huff, and that’s when you realize how silent the class is.

“Miss Pyrope, Miss Serket, if you two are done back there, I’d like to resume class.” A few people snicker. You feel your face heat up.

“Sorry,” Terezi says for the two of you, but she still looks like she’s about to burst into laughter.

God _dammit_.

* * *

 

 

She somehow ropes you into going into the library because “It’s a Friday” and she can “Convince her sister to come pick her up and give her a ride home,” like those things factor into your decision to stay after school. The only thing that factors into that decision is that you hate yourself, obviously.

Yeah.

Currently, Terezi is making you read to her, and your voice drones on.

“Read with more emotion!” she tells you, “Didn’t you ever get told that in elementary school?”

“Why don’t you read? Oh, that’s right! You can’t! Because you’re blind!” You’re practically shouting at her, and the couple other students in the library stare at you. You glare back.

Terezi hums. “It’s almost preposterous how hard you try to offend me with lousy blind jokes. If you can even call them that.”

“It’s almost preposterous how stupid you sound saying words like ‘preposterous’ seriously.”

Terezi laughs. “You’re pretty funny, Serket,” she says. You’re glad she can’t see the color rise to your face.

“Yeah, I know.”

“So modest!” she says, smiling. “Now read.”

You read.

* * *

 

The school library is only open an hour after school is over, so you aren’t there long, and you end up getting one of your sources, so you think it’s safe to say you won’t be coming back to the library within the next century. You got yelled at multiple times to quiet down, despite the fact that two out of the two kids in there put in earphones after the first eight minutes of you being there.

You both are out front of the school. You’re sitting on one of the ledges of the columns in front of the doors. Terezi talks to her phone and tells it to call Latula. You make fun of her.

“Hey ‘Tula,” she says into the phone, completely ignoring you, “Can you come pick me up from the school now?”

She pauses, “Alright, thanks. Oh, and just so you know I have a friend with me. Yup. Ok, bye.”

She leans against the column and asks you questions about yourself while you wait for her sister. Personal questions are the worst, and you let her know this with your answers.

“Have you lived here your whole life?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you like to do for fun?”

“Play video games.”

“What kind of video games?”

“Online games.”

“What kinds of online games?”

“MMOs.”

“Why are you being so boring?”

“I dunno.” She turns and hits you with her cane. You wince.

“Will you stop doing that? That one actually hurt, Jesus.” You resist the urge to rub your leg.

“Stop being boring!”

“ _Fine_ ,” you say with such reluctance that you would think she asked you to give up your first born child.

“What else do you like?”

You have to think about that one for a while. “Pirates,” you say slowly, bracing yourself for a laugh that doesn’t come.

“Fictional pirates or real pirates?” She says, as if she actually is interested.

“Um. Fictional pirates. They sail the seas and go on awesome adventures and get gold and stuff.” Why are you still talking? You scratch the back of your neck. “Real pirates are just assholes.”

She laughs at that. “Yeah, real pirates are assholes.” You suppress a smile.

“So,” she starts, “When else should we work on the project? You could come over to my house this weekend.”

“Or I can spend my time do something a billion times better,” when she doesn’t reply, you decide to be honest with her. “Uh, and I’m not sure if I could get my mom to take me over to your house.”

She looks thoughtful for a second before replying. “I could get my mom or sister to come pick you up,” she suggests.

“Nah, that’s ok,” you say, uneasy with the prospect of asking your mom. She must detect something in your voice, because she doesn’t say anything. You swallow before adding, “Maybe next week or something.”

 “Well, at least give me your number!” she says after a moment, handing you her phone. By the time you finish entering your name and number, her sister’s pulled up.

Terezi doesn’t leave you in the backseat by yourself, and when she gets in she introduces you to your sister, who can’t much older than early 20s. She glances back with a smile and a loud, “Hey!”

You give her directions to your house and belatedly toss a thank you behind you as you get out of the car.

Her sister doesn’t pull away immediately, and you’re stuck having to actually open the gate instead of just climbing over it. You fumble with the latch like an idiot and close the gate behind you a good thirty seconds later, giving Latula an awkward wave.

You’re not even inside your house when you get a text.

 

> D1D YOU M4K3 1T TO YOUR HOUS3 OK4Y? 1 H34RD YOU W3R3 H4V1NG TROUBL3 OP3N1NG YOUR G4T3

How in the _hell_ did she manage to type like that with her voice? What the fuck. You scowl at your phone before replying.

 

> fuck off, pyrope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That has been this week on "How Much Italics is Too Much Italics" with guest appearances such as "Three Uses Too Many of the Word 'Preposterous' ", and "The Troll's Typing Quirks Translate Into Their Texts Because Why the Hell Not".  
> Thanks for tuning in, folks.


	4. Chapter 4

Over the next week, you develop a pattern.

To be fair, you’ve always had a pattern. You would wake up, take a shower, go to school, come home, play games, eat,  do your homework, and sleep.

It’s pretty much the same. Except now, it involves Terezi Pyrope. Now it goes something like: you wake up, take a shower, get harassed by Terezi, come home, play games and get harassed by Terezi, eat, do your homework, and sleep. 

And when you say that you get harassed by Terezi, you really mean that she talks to you. But when it comes to her, a lot of the time there isn’t a difference between the two of them. She talks to you like she’s known you forever.

When Thursday comes along, you’re halfway done with your project. Despite making progress at least eight times faster than anyone would ever need to, she isn’t satisfied with your pace. When you aren’t having one of your usual conversations with her, she is scolding you, which is completely idiotic. You tell her as much.

You call your usual conversations ‘usual’ and not ‘normal’ because you cover topics from cannibalism to online experiences to all of the mental problems she probably has.

It’s kind of fun.

But because you’re you, the only way you express that is by being a total bitch to her. And because Terezi is Terezi, she takes all in stride.

It’s infuriating.

As of now, you’re sitting at a lunch table arguing her while Nepeta darts her eyes back and forth between the two of you. Equius is gone today, he’s come down with something like the flu.

“You’re wrong Vriska.” You glare at her.

“I’m not! Mountain Dew is simply the best soda there is, and anyone who says otherwise is stupid.”

She (not really) looks at you like you have a second head before replying. “Experts say that Cherry Pepsi is the best.”

“ _What_ experts?”

“Me!” She cackles. “Just accept it, Serket. I’m right, you’re wrong.”

“That shit is disgusting.”

She turns away from you and doesn’t reply. You wait. When it becomes apparent she’s not going to say anything, you speak.

“What?”

“Apologize,” is all she says.

“What?” you ask, indignant.“No! It’s not my fault you’re so wrong.” You turn to Nepeta. She smiles sheepishly and shrugs. Some help she is.

“Come on Terezi.”

“…”

“Terezi.”

“…”

“Fine,” you huff, leaning back into your chair. You sit there. This lasts for about ten seconds.

You poke her in the shoulder. She doesn’t respond. You throw your hands up into the air.

“Fine! I’m sorry! Happy?”

She smiles her piranha smile. “Very.”

“God, you’re so dumb,” you say, crossing your arms and leaning back again. Terezi ignores your insult.

“So!” she starts, “Are you going to come to my house this weekend to finish the project?”

“You mean you don’t expect me to be done by then?” you ask, sarcasm dripping from your voice. She frowns.

“Not with how slow you’re going!”

Oh _hell_ no.

“I have been working on that stupid ass project every damn day, when really I could get it done in two hours on Sunday night! Hell, it would probably end up better that way!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Vriska.” You practically growl.

Her condescending look fades away and she laughs. “I’m just kidding,” she says. “You’re doing fine on it. I just like messing with you.” When she smiles, she sticks her tongue in between her teeth. The tip of your ears burn and you dart your eyes away from her.

You swallow before saying, “Yeah, okay. Freak.” You kind of forgot what you were talking about.

 When you look across the table Nepeta is grinning at the both of you.

“What are you looking at?”

“Oh, nothing,” she says, as if she knows a secret. You squint your eyes at her. She giggles and doesn’t say anything. Your furrow your eyebrows, but nothing. You may need to reserve your glaring if people are starting to get used to it.

Terezi pokes you in the side and you jerk away. “Vriska, stop it.”

“Stop what!?”

“You know what,” she says, as if she’s talking to a stubborn child.

“Yeah, you’re right, I do know what! But how do _you_ know what?”

“I have superpowers. Obviously.”

“Oh yeah? What kind of superpowers? The power of being the most annoying person on the entire fucking planet?”

“Nope! I can read minds.”

“What am I thinking right now then?” you challenge her, and she when puts her elbow on the table and leans into her palm you feel like you’ve wandered into a trap.

“You’re thinking that I can’t read minds.” You scowl.

“That’s such bullshit.” She cackles.

“But I was right! Was I not?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t count.”

“And why not? Do you think it counts, Nepeta?” she asks, turning forward.

“Yes, I do! Sorry Vriska,” she says, but she doesn’t look very sorry. What a little shit.

You puff the hair out of your face. “Fine, what am I thinking now?”

“Nope!” she says.

“What do you mean, ‘nope’?”

“I mean nope! I only do one free reading, sorry.” She grins.

You start to formulate a response, but the bell rings, and she jumps up and almost hits you in the face with the handle of her cane.

“Well, I better get to class! Wouldn’t want to miss out on some more mind-reading opportunities.” She pauses before adding, “Don’t worry Vriska, I still like yours the best.” You have no idea what she means by that.

You think about it all through chemistry and English.

* * *

 

“You never told me if you are coming over to my house this weekend,” she says the second you sit down next to her in history.

“Jesus, calm down,” you say, “if you want me over so bad just say so.”

She slams her hand on your desk and lowers her voice. “Please, Vriska, I need you to come over. I don’t think I could go on if you don’t.” You laugh at her. “Please, Vriska. For me.”

“Fiiiiiiiine,” you say. “I _suppose_ I could come over. But only because I’m such a nice person.”

“Thank you Vriska,” she says, nodding solemnly, “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“God, you’re such a dork,” you say, but you’re smiling. She gasps and brings her hand to her chest.

“How could you even _say_ that? After all I’ve done for you?”

“What have you ever done for me?” you ask, going for unimpressed but ending up with amused.

“I’ve given you life!” You shake your head.

“You’ve given me pain and suffering,” you say, but you both know it’s not true. She shushes you. “What?”

“Vriska, shut up,” she says, turning away from you.

“What did I say now?”

“Class is going start,” she says. Right after, your teacher begins talking.

Five minutes into class, you lean over to her. “How did you know he was going to start talking?” you whisper.

She grins. “Superpowers, remember?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "What even is the plot of this?" You ask.
> 
> "I don't know," I answer.


	5. Chapter 5

When you get ready in the morning, you stuff a pair of sweatpants, a loose shirt (even more so than usual), and a toothbrush for good measure into your bag. You leave your mom a note in your room.

 

> Going over to a friends, I’ll 8e 8ack Saturday or Sunday.

You smile to yourself as you push your way out the front door and admire how much of a genius you are. You would be surprised if your mom went looking to talk to you at all, so putting a note in the open would just be sticking your neck out when you could possibly avoid the trouble altogether. Outright asking her is not an option you even considered, so your plan is basically foolproof.

Basically.

* * *

 

“What if someone tried to kidnap you or something?”

“I’d kill them!”

“What in the _fuck_ , Pyrope.”

You and Terezi are walking to her house, and, to your surprise, no one was waiting to pick her up when you both got off the bus.

“What? They were trying to kidnap me! Do you want me to just let them?”

“No, but-”

“Then I don’t see what the issue is! In fact, I do not see what any issue is,” she says, cackling madly at her own joke. You groan.

“Why is it,” you start, “that I can’t even mention the word ‘blind’ without people giving me dirty looks, but you can make stupid jokes about it all the time?”

“Because I’m actually the one that’s blind!” she says, and then looks thoughtful for a moment. “And also, people are stupid and don’t seem to realize that not mentioning my blindness won’t make it stop being a thing.”

“Well you’re right about one thing. People are stupid.”

“Your skills at intermingling with society are excellent as always, Serket!”

“Don’t call me Serket, Pyrope.”

She cackles. “Don’t call me Pyrope, Serket.”

You should’ve seen that one coming.

“Why are you so lame?” you ask, but when you look over at her the wind has swept her hair and your stomach nearly drops.

“Because you’ve been rubbing off on me!” she says, and you swear that she would’ve winked if the concept meant anything to her.

Your mouth is dry, and as soon as you realize what’s going on, you mentally berate yourself.

“Cat got your tongue, Vriska?”

You manage to pull yourself together well enough to answer her. “No, just thinking about how stupidly stupid you are.”

“You’re kindness warms my heart, Vriska,” she says, turning to walk up the path to a house. When you got off the bus, you noticed how big the houses were, and hers is no exception.

She opens her door, and when you get in her house you marvel at how…nice everything looks. You feel like you’re out of place and you shrink back.

However, your crippling self-esteem gets put on hold when you hear explosions and a shouted, “Dammit!”

“I’m home!” Terezi yells right in your ear as she kicks off her shoes. As you follow suit, Latula pokes her head out from behind the couch, PlayStation controller in hand.

“Hey, rad girl!” she says to Terezi. And then, when she sees you, “Hi Vriska!”

 “Hi,” you say a second too late, bringing your hand up in a half-wave. Terezi snickers.

Latula smiles and looks back to Terezi.

“Mom’ll be home late,” she says. “And I think I’m gonna go out tonight.”

“Late, or late late?”

“Late Late.”

Terezi seems to know what this means somehow, because she just replies with an, “Ok.”

She turns to you and asks if you want a pop or something. When you tell her no, she laughs at you and hauls you to the kitchen anyways.

“Why is everything so clean?” you say in disgust, as if cleanliness is something you could be disgusted by.

“Because we aren’t savages!” she says, opening the refrigerator and rummaging around. “Unlike some people.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Instead of answering you, she shoves an entire box of soda in your general direction. It’s an awkward transaction and you brush her arms and hands and few times as you fumble to get a grip. The arm and hand brushing isn’t exactly helping, and it takes longer than it needs to.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?”

“Take it upstairs for me!”

“There’s no way I can drink all of this,” you say, irritated. “And also, why the hell do you keep an entire box of soda in your fridge, instead of just putting a few cans in at a time like an intelligent human being?”

“Because that is just a waste of time!” she says, cheerily. “Not shut up Vriska, and carry the soda upstairs for the blind girl.”

You grumble but do as she says, and her sister is too absorbed in her game to notice that you look like you’re trying to steal half the contents of their refrigerator.

She must hear you though, because she shouts over her shoulder that she will order pizza before she leaves. Terezi yells a “Thanks!” and takes the stairs two at a time as you sluggishly follow behind.

You pretty much dump all the soda on the floor along with your stuff, and she scolds you before moving the soda off to the side. She grabs two and forces you to take one.

You settle down and talk about all sorts of inane crap with her for what could be hours. You talk about your RPG OCs with only limited embarrassment, and she listens with what you think is genuine interest. She talks to you about how she wants to be lawyer like her mom and why she likes dragons so much. And, yeah, you guess you can admit that dragons are pretty cool. You tell her that you still don’t think anyone should wear them on shirts or have posters of them, regardless of whether or not the owner is able to see how hideous they are. She laughs at you.

It’s fun.

 

Soon you hear her doorbell ring, and she leaves you in her room to sit there awkwardly by yourself. She isn’t gone long though, and she comes back with two plates of pizza.

* * *

 

When you finish off the pizza, she jumps up and claps her hands together. “Alright, time to finish this project!”

“Ugh, you actually expect me to work?”

“That’s what I said we were going to do, didn’t I?

“I know, but I didn’t think you were serious,” you grumble, half to yourself.

“Would you rather,” Terezi starts, leaning over to you on the floor and getting in your face, “we braid each other’s hair and talk about boys? Or girls, if that’s what you like.” You blush and back up quickly.

“Fuck you!”

She cackles, but then seems thoughtful. You’re expecting her to continue to make fun of you, but all she says is, “Hm. That’s interesting.”

“ _What’s_ interesting?” Another laugh, this one so high pitched even bats wouldn’t know what to do with it.

You start to question her further, but the doorbell rings again. Terezi darts out of her room and after a few seconds you here a muffled “‘Rezi I’m leaving!” and an “Ok, see you later!”

When Terezi comes back in and shuts the door, she gives you a smile that could only be described as impish. You can’t pinpoint why, but you have the sudden desire to run very, very far away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yes, Terezi and Vriska all by themselves. How convenient...this is unprecedented...I'm sure it will have no effect on the plot at all...


	6. Chapter 6

“Uh, what are you doing?” You ask as she takes your laptop out of your hands.

“Work time’s over for now!” Is all she says. You aren’t going to complain, but you’d still like to know what’s going on.

“Seriously what-"

“Not now Vriska,” she says briskly, and your brows knit together in confusion. Satisfied with your following silence, she begins speaking again.

“Now,” she says, placing the laptop on her mattress before she sits down crisscross accross from your place on the ground, “Let’s revisit an earlier topic.”

She leans forward, elbows on her knees, fingers bridged. She breaks the illusion of formality by grinning that sharp grin of hers, but you’re still unsettled. You remember that closing your mouth is something people should do, and you do so. You then remember that responding to conversation is also something people should do, and you clear your throat.

“What earlier topic?”

“The one about your _blatant_ homosexuality, of course!” She says it so cheerfully that you don’t even register what she’s implying at first. When your brain catches you up with the situation, you sputter.

“Don’t worry, Vriska! No judgments here,” she says with a sly grin, and you consider how many bones you would break from jumping out that window on the east wall of her room.

Instead of doing anything drastic like that, you decide to pull yourself together and try to get some hold on the situation. You reason that Terezi realizing that you aren’t straight isn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened, or even a bad thing at all. Still, you’re going to make her work for it.

“‘Blatant’?” you say, when your voice starts working again. “All I remember is your accusations, totally baseless by the way, that I’m into girls. And now you’re saying I’m a lesbian? Sheesh, Pyrope, you ain’t  ever going to be a lawyer with that level of shitty reasoning skills.”

She scoffs, and leans forward even more, and her knees touch yours. “Please! My accusations are based on careful observations of your behavior, making them totally legitimate!” Her smile has only grown.

You roll your eyes, and momentarily forget that you were freaking out half a minute ago. “Ok, first of all, not a lesbian.”

Terezi cocks her head at you, and her menacing grin grows thoughtful. “Huh, I guess you aren’t.”

“That’s it?” you ask. You’re hurting your case, but you continue on anyway. “You’re just going to take my word on it? After all those ‘observations’?”

“Yup!” she says, “I can tell when people are lying, Serket. Just another one of my abilities that will come in handy when I’m an internationally-known prosecutor.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Look, I know blind people are supposed to have super senses or whatever but there’s no way in hell that you can just ‘tell’ when people are lying.”

“Yes I can, and you are wrong,” she states simply, sliding her hand to rest on her legs and leaning back. You lean forward a little bit after her.

“Prove it,” you challenge.

“Nope!”

“What? Why?” you say, annoyance in your voice. You’re kind of interested in her blind superpowers.

“Because,” she begins, leaning back toward you once more, “We are getting off topic!” Before you can remember what exactly the topic was, she reminds you.

“So you aren’t totally gay, but you’re at least half gay. Three-fourth gay, even,” she says, as if she’s calculating percentages in her head. Your roll your eyes again. By the time the night is over, they might be stuck looking at the back of your skull.

“Why does it matter how gay I am?” you ask, because really this conversation has officially moved from the ‘terrifying’ to the ‘pointless’ category. “I like girls, and guys too. The end, who fucking cares.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter. But I’m a very curious person!”

“If by curious, you mean nosy, then yeah,” you say, barely resisting rolling your eyes again. “You’re the most curious person I know, congratulations.” She shakes her head.

“I am not nosy! I am in investigator, there’s a difference,” she says matter-of-fact, and you’re convinced that she actually believes that.

“Yeah, whatever you say! The nosiest nosy investigator that ever lived.” She looks like she’s about argue with you, and you decide that you are done with talking about how nosy she is. It’s your turn.

“What about you?” you ask.

“What about me what?” she says, and god dammit she’s going to make you elaborate. She must know it too, because her smile grows, just the slightest bit.

“You know,” you say, because apparently you can’t stop being awkward long enough to speak like a decent human being. “What are you?”

“Well…” she says in a breath, and you look at her expectantly before she continues, “I’m a female human, I’m a Libra-”

“You know what I mean!” you say, frustrated. But when she starts laughing, you join in. When you collect yourself, you speak again. “Seriously, just tell me. Quit being stupid about it.”

“Gasp!”

She really just said ‘gasp’ out loud. That’s a thing she just said. You're friends with someone that says things like 'gasp'.

“You call me stupid, but demand information of me? You really need to work on your manners, Vriska.” Before you can tell her that she can shove her manners up her ass, she starts talking.

“But I’ll tell you anyway, out of the kindness of my heart,” she says, solemnly. “I consider myself pansexual,” she says, and you kind of want to fist pump. Wait a second, she's blind, you _can_ fist pump. You fist pump. But only once, because she turns her head sharply when you do so.

“What was that?” she asks, and you think you might start to sweat.

“Nothing. I mean, what was what?” You’re an idiot, you’ve decided. You think that you’ll just never go to school ever again, and just live under your bed, like an idiot.

She’s still not talking yet, and you need to change the subject before she figures out that you just did a celebratory hand gesture after finding out her sexuality. Because then she’ll question you, and you don’t even know why you did a celebratory hand gesture. (Ok, that’s totally bullshit, of course you know why.)

“So uh,” you start, grasping around for some sort of conversational topic. Her grin is turning into a knowing one at an alarming speed. “What do you want to do?”

Her expression doesn’t change. You blew it Serket. You'll have to move to a foreign country now. Or Nebraska.

She interrupts your inner meltdown by leaning back, a thoughtful expression overcoming her face. You relax slightly.

“I don’t know,” she says, as if she’s considering the possibilities.  She hums.

“Wait, I have a great idea! We can play truth or dare, that’s what people do at sleepovers, right?” Your mouth goes dry, because this is how pornos start, you’re pretty sure.

“There’s only two of us,” is all you say, but Terezi’s already made up her mind.

“Come on, it’ll be fun! You know you want to,” she says, and it’s probably the least compelling argument you’ve ever heard.

Instead of telling her this, you say, “Fine,” because apparently, you like getting yourself into situations that will probably kill you, one way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I may have forgotten I was doing this. I do apologize, but school is the real enemy here.


	7. Chapter 7

“Truth.”

“When did you find out that you like girls?”

“Seventh grade. Truth or dare?”

“Truth!”

“When did you find out that you’re mentally challenged?”

“Vriska!” she exclaims, reprimanding you while you laugh. “How are you going to find out any juicy details about me if you don’t ask any juicy questions?”

She has a point, but every chance to ask a question is also a chance to make fun of her. You’ve gone with the latter every time, and you have yet to regret your decision.

“Come on Terezi, this game is so boring. All you do is pick truth.” She looks at you in mock indignation.

“You haven’t picked dare either! Your hypocrisy smells, Serket.”

“Ok first of all,” you say, “I have no idea what the hell that means, and I don’t want to. Second, fine, I’ll pick dare. Try me.”

She jumps at your challenge. “Alright, truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

She grins. “I dare you to try to balance three cans of pop on your head at once!” You blink at her.

“That’s it?” you say, genuinely confused. “That’s the dare you’ve been saving up?” Now it’s her turn to look confused.

“Of course,” she says, as if you’re the slowest person on the planet.

Ok, you give up. You get up and gather the required materials before a thought occurs to you.

“Wait, how will you know if I’m doing it? What could you possibly get out of this?”

She must have the answer ready, because it comes immediately. “I’ll know that you’re doing it when you drop all the cans and inevitably fail!”

You scoff. “I’m not going to fail Pyrope. Just watch, uh, I mean, listen.”

You put the first can on your head, carefully bringing your hand away. Along with your head, the can stays still. You reach up with the second can in hand, and you panic as the first begins to slowly slide off your head. You scramble to catch it and manage to let both of them fall. When one of them lands on your foot, you swear.

Terezi cackles madly. “You played right into my trap! You make it too easy, Vriska.”

You huff and plop down in your spot, sending one of the cans flying when you land on it. You wince. Terezi is sent off into another fit of laughter. You can’t help but crack a smile.

It takes a good three minutes of her erratic laughter before she calms down completely. When she wipes tears from her face, you ask, “Are you done yet?”

“Whew!” she says, “I think I’m finished, unless…” she pauses, as if debating whether she should laugh again. “Nope, I’m done now.”

“Truth you dare,” you say. You hope she picks dare. You'll dare her to pick a less shitty game to play, and it will be hilarious.

“I suppose I owe it to you to pick dare,” she says, “After that spectacle, it’s only fair.”

You’re about to try and get her to call off this stupid game, but your eyes come to rest on the can that’s now on the other side of the room, and a glorious idea occurs to you.

You hum as if you‘re considering, and then you get up and walk around the room.

“What are you doing?” she says, following you with her head.

“Thinking of a dare, stupid,” you say. When you get to where the can is, you stoop down to pick it up.

“Ok, got one!” you say, coming back to sit down across from her, but this time you sit a bit further away than you were before. 

“I dare you to chug this,” you say, taking her hand and placing the can in it. She frowns.

“That’s it?”

“You have ten seconds!” You say in a sing-song voice.

“Hey, that isn’t fair!” she says, and you begin counting backwards from ten.

You get to eight before she opens it. It explodes in her face.  And all over the rest of her, actually.

“God, Vriska!” she says, standing up, trying to keep it from getting all over the floor. You’re laughing so hard you’re afraid that you might hurt yourself. You clutch at your stomach.

When she continues to stand there as the spray of soda begins to lessen, your laughter begins to lessen as well as she blindly glares at you. You begin to worry, until she smiles just the slightest bit.

“Great,” she says, as if she’s trying to chide a child, but she’s too amused to do so. “Now I’m all sticky and gross. I’m going to have to take a shower.” You start laughing again.

She shakes her head, walking over to her closet and feeling around for clothes.

“I’ll be right back, don’t break anything,” she says once she’s gotten a bundle in her hands. She opens the door and begins to walk out before a thought occurs to her.

“Actually, Vriska, go downstairs and get a rag to clean this mess up.”

You start to protest, and she slams the door. Dammit.

* * *

 

You’re walking idly around the first floor of Terezi’s house, casually exploring. You can hear the water running in the pipes between the walls, and it’s calming, somehow.

You’re moral compass isn’t too developed, and nothing really prevents you from sifting through all of her cabinets. You could always tell Terezi you were looking for a rag, because she didn’t exactly tell you where to find one. Granted, you found one in the first minute of you being down here. But she doesn’t have to know that.

You find her pantry, and you walk in and look around. There’s like, 100 bags of ramen noodles in here. This is ridiculous.

You use your foot to push some packaged cookies that are sitting on one of the lower shelves. When you move it out of the way, something catches your eye.

You bend down to look at the spindly little arachnid, leaning forward to examine it. It’s just a cellar spider, which is usually a snore, but it’s missing one of its limbs. You think about how it must’ve gotten into a fight with another when it crawled into its domain, or something equally as awesome. You consider all the equally as awesome things that could’ve happened to this little guy.

“Are you trying to steal my food?” Terezi asks from directly behind you.

You stand up abruptly, somehow managing not to hit your head on anything. You teeter on your feet in front of her, embarrassed. How the hell does a _blind girl_ sneak up on you?

“Uh, no,” you say. You’re about to tell her that you were looking around for a rag, when you manage to take in her appearance.

She’s dressed in red flannel pajama bottoms, and a shirt with another goddamn dragon on it (you’ll have to ask her how many shirts she owns with dragons on them), but it’s not her attire that catches your eye. The shower has made her hair darker, and it clings to the side of her face and sticks up at odd angles. You can see her eyebrows clearly now that they’re wet, and damn, you never would’ve thought that you could be attracted to eyebrows.

“Vriska, are you listening to me?” she asks, crossing her arms. She’s standing really close to you and your mind blanks.

“No.” You say, and something in your voice makes her expression soften. You step forward and you can feel her breath where it reaches your neck. She must feel yours too, because she looks up in your direction and tilts her head inquisitively.

“What are you doing?” she asks, as quiet and uncertain as you’ve ever heard her.

“I dunno,” you say, because you don’t.

She doesn't move. You feel like you're watching the two of you from another point of veiw, unable to control your actions, unable to want to. She sighs and you lean down, tilting your head to press your lips to hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, that happened. 
> 
> I was gonna delay it another chapter but I didn't feel like dragging it out anymore would be fair to anyone.
> 
> Until next week.


	8. Chapter 8

Nothing really passes through your brain but a few _holy shit_ s and the occasional thought of how soft her lips are. But your lack of coherent thoughts is not really of importance right now, because you’re totally making out with Terezi Pyrope in her pantry. You’d be thinking about how awesome it is, if you were thinking at all.

She sighs into your mouth, and when you get your tongue in hers, her breath hitches. When her arms come up to wrap around your neck, you rest your hands on her waist. Your thumbs stroke slowly up and down, and she moves even closer, practically pressing herself against you. You have no idea what the fuck you’re doing, but you must doing something right, because when your tongue is at the back of her teeth, she makes this little noise that makes you melt a little. Your tongue stokes the roof of her mouth before she gasps, and you both have to pull back before teenage virgin hormones get the best of one of you.

You shakily tuck her damp hair behind one of her ears, both of you silent. You’re about to say something along the lines of “I knew you couldn’t resist me,” or something equally as narcissistic, but she cuts you off, and begins laughing hysterically. What the fuck.

“What the fuck,” you say, out loud this time. You’re pretty sure this isn’t a normal way to react after kissing someone. She continues on, louder. You stare at her. She doesn’t stop, and you shift on your feet uncomfortably. You look up, squinting at the cobwebs lining the corners of the ceiling. This was a terrible idea.

She finally decides to take pity on you, and her laughter slowly trails off with a few outbursts here and there.

“Well,” she says, laughter still in her voice. “That took less time than I was anticipating!”

A pause.

“What.”

She shakes her head and says, “I thought you were going to take at _least_ another month to do that! Nepeta’s estimate was way more accurate than mine, and I thought I was good at predicting people’s actions.”

Your brain works slowly, and when things add up you’re not even sure what your reaction should be.

“You were _betting_ on when I would kiss you?”

“Yes!” she says, and then slaps your arm. “I owe Nepeta five bucks, thanks a lot!”

You’re still having trouble finding a proper reaction. You want to be angry or something, but it’s hard to do so when she just finished kissing you. Instead of getting a good gauge on your own feelings, you decide that it’s a much better idea to just sit on the floor.

“Why are you doing that?” she asks. You put your head in your hands and squeeze your eyes shut.

“Don’t talk to me,” you say, because apparently, you are actually five years old.

She kneels down and feels for your face, catching your wrists and pulling them away in the process. “Come on Vriska,” she says, smiling that stupid grin of hers, “Stop pouting! I don’t understand what the problem is.”

“Why were you betting on when I was going to kiss you?” you ask, and before you can stop yourself you add, “And do you even like me?” You cringe at your own words. Well, its official, any chance you had is gone. You might as well move to Canada.

She looks at you and sees nothing, but she still manages to look incredulous.

“I thought you were intelligent,” she says, squishing your face in between her hands. You huff, because you’re the most intelligent person on the planet.

You tell her this, but because of she’s still in the act of squishing your face, it comes out as a mumbled mess. She laughs and leans forward, and you lean back, causing her to fall on you. You shriek, even though you were already close enough to the ground for it not to hurt.

Your noise of distress makes her laugh harder. Or at least you think she’s laughing harder, it’s hard to tell if her volume’s changed , when her mouth is right next to your ear.

“Get off,” you groan. You try to hide your face, but she doesn’t let you.

“Nope!” she says, pressing on your shoulders and lifting herself off of you slightly. “This is your fault, and now you have to pay.”

“Pyrope.”

“Not happening, Serket. Just lie here and reflect on what you’ve one.”

“I dunno what I’ve done, supposedly, but whatever,” you say in a huff.

She shakes her head, but doesn’t say anything. Her palms dig into your shoulders, but you don’t protest. You’re not going to make this easy for her. At least you don’t want to make this easy for her, but you aren’t exactly the most patient person around.

You’ve determined you’re not mad, after all the consideration you’ve done in the last eight seconds of lying on the floor. You figure that if you weren’t even sure whether or not you wanted to be mad, it would probably save you some energy and a headache to just not be mad about it. It’s the most rational thought you’ve had in weeks.

God, her palms are really starting to hurt you.

“Ok, not that this isn’t fun and all,” you start, “but can you get off me?” She just grins.

You roll your eyes. This has gone on far too long, in your opinion. Your shoulders are just about numb. Sure, the rest of her doesn’t feel too bad, but you don’t have time for anymore sappy feelings like that.

You bend your arms and grab at her hands, trying to push her off you. You don’t know what the hell you were thinking with that, because she just falls on you again, making a muffled “oof” sound. This time, you notice all the places that her body touches yours.

While you’re preoccupied with the thought of that, she scrambles up and pins you by the shoulders again. You missed your escape. God dammit.

“Hey!” she starts to scold you, but now you’re getting ready to initiate Plan B, which you just made up half a second ago.

You reach for her arms again, but this time you lift yourself off the ground, and twist, managing to roll yourself on top of her. She struggles against you, but she’s laughing, and so are you. You’re wrestling on the dirty floor, and it’s the most fun you’ve had in months.

Your combined laughter settles down somewhat, and you look at her. You can’t help but thinking that you’re really, _really_ glad that you met her. You kind of want to vomit after thinking that, but you also kind of want to kiss her.

You kiss the girl. Again.

It’s pretty cool.

* * *

 

You and Terezi eventually get off the floor and make your way to the living room. You figured someone would come home eventually, and as much as you enjoy the act, you aren’t about to let Terezi’s mom catch you making out with her daughter.

You both flop down on her couch, and Terezi sits on the remote before she throws it at you.

“Ow,” you say, even though it didn’t hurt in the slightest.

“Shut up,” she says, reaching behind your head to grab the blanket resting on the back of the couch. She throws it over the both of you and _snuggles_ up to you. That’s pretty much the only way to describe it. Your face heats up, which is absolutely ridiculous, considering her tongue was in your mouth just minutes ago.

“Vriska,” Terezi says sleepily, interrupting your thoughts. You look down to where her head rests below your collar bone. Her eyes are shut.

“What?” you say, mouth dry. You are in so deep, it’s not even funny.

“Turn on the damn TV,” she says.

“Right,” you say, fumbling for the remote. You have no idea what time it is, but the infomercials are already on. You attempt to flip through the channels to find something, and you end up settling on Animal Planet. Whatever. You toss the remote to the side of you.

You drop your arm to Terezi’s shoulder, and you lean back. She makes this contented little sigh, and you can’t help but wonder when your luck decided to treat you well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They make out: the chapter
> 
> Thanks to everyone's feedback/encouragement so far, I'm still getting the hang of this. I'm probably going to be wrapping this up soon, it should be another one or two chapters.


	9. Chapter 9

Before you open your eyes, you notice three things.

The first thing you notice is that Terezi is no longer leaning on you. The second thing you notice is that there are voices coming from the kitchen, and you only recognize one of them. The last thing you notice is that your neck really, really hurts.

You open your eyes cautiously, and lift yourself so you can see over the back of the couch. You can’t see any of the sources of the voices. Terezi’s chatting away about something to do with oatmeal flavors, and you realize belatedly that she’s talking to her mom.

Realizing this, you plop back down and decide to wait until Terezi comes and finds that you’re awake. You’ve never been good at interacting with people, much less adults.

The TV hasn’t been turned off, and you make a mental note to harass Terezi about wasting energy later, even though there are few things that you care less about than the environment.

 There’s some show on featuring animals that make weird noises and do funny tricks, and it’s pretty much a shitty animal version of America’s Funniest Home Videos. You’re actually getting kind of frustrated watching it. There’s just something about that screeching bunny that makes you restless.

You stare longingly at the TV remote, which has been moved to the table next to the couch. The idea of changing the station at someone’s house without their permission makes you anxious, which is completely ridiculous, but you don’t care. So, you sit there, staring at the remote and listening to Mario Lopez talk about a dog that can stand on its front legs. Your eye twitches.

Terezi eventually makes her way back into the living room. You wonder if she knows that you’re awake. Her lack of greeting confirms that she doesn’t.

Immediately after she sits down next to you, she makes a face and grabs for the remote. She turns off the TV, effectively cutting off a parrot mid-trick. Thank god.

Terezi tries to be still, but after a moment, she squirms. You smile to yourself, and try to stop the huff of laughter from escaping your mouth. She jumps and whips around to face you.

“Vriska?” You stay silent, trying to regulate your breathing. After a moment, she grins and reaches out her hand. You watch curiously as she brings it centimeters away from your face, and stops. She flicks you in the nose.

“Ow! What the…” You remember her mom in the other room, “heck?” She laughs at you and you mentally kick yourself.

“My mom doesn’t care,” she says, grinning.

“I’m not cussing in front of your mom, Pyrope,” you say, because you have _some_ fucking manners. You demonstrate this by kicking your feet up into Terezi’s lap, leaning back.

“Too polite to cuss in front of adults?” she asks, and you can see her tongue in between her teeth when she smiles.

“Damn straight,” you say, and then, “No, I mean, wait.” Fuck.

She laughs at you again, dull eyes somehow bright.

* * *

 

You meet Terezi’s mom, and she’s stern in a way that makes you feel smaller, but she’s nice enough. You like her. Probably because she feeds you bacon.

It’s hours past midday before you even think about leaving. But you eventually come to the horrifying realization that the longer you’re away from your house, the higher the chance is that your mom finds that you aren’t there.

So, you change and brush your teeth, and after making out with her for a little bit up in her room, you get Terezi to (reluctantly) ask her mom to take you home. You thank her for having you over, and you tell Terezi that you’ll see her at school on Monday.

When you get up to your door, you open it with your fingers crossed, praying to God that your mom isn’t up yet. 

You’re halfway inside when you hear prattling in the kitchen, and you consider running back out the door and chasing after Terezi’s car. Maybe if you ask nicely enough they’ll take you in.

Instead, you shut the door as quietly as you can, and take small steps toward your room. You step on a floorboard that creaks like you’ve personally insulted it, and _god fucking dammit why is your house so old_.

You hear your mom yell out from the kitchen. You make a mad dash to your room.

You’re on your bed before she manages to catch up to you, grabbing the note you left her and shoving it into your pockets. There’s still a chance she didn’t notice your absence, you realize.

She’s in your room half a second after you do so, and you hold your breath.

“What the fuck were you doing out there?” she asks, angrily. You stay silent for a moment, trying to gauge how much she knows.

“Fucking answer me.”

“Out where?”

“Out near the door. Where you planning on going somewhere?” she challenges you.

You breathe out.

“No,” you say, snappily, after a moment. “I was hungry.” Total bullshit, but whatever.

She shakes her head and is already walking out the door.

“Too bad,” she says on the way out, “It’s almost dinner time.”

You want to tell her that you know she won’t be making you dinner anyway, but you bite your tongue. The universe is offering you a chance not to get your assed kicked by your mom, and you’re taking it.

Despite this fortunate turn of events, you kind of want to sit there and sulk, but that planned is ruined when you hear your phone go off. You’re full-on grinning before you even check the message, because you know exactly who it is.

> D1D YOU M4K3 1T THROUGH YOUR G4T3 W1THOUT 4NY PROBL3MS TH1S T1M3? 1 WOULDNT W4NT YOU TO G3T STUCK 4ND D13

Your thumbs fly as you type out your reply, and your chest feels light even when she texts you.

> Worried a8out me, pyrope?

Her reply is nearly instantaneous, and you really are impressed that she can be blind and send messages filled with horrendous leet speak.

> OF COURS3 NOT 1 JUST N33D TO KNOW WH3TH3R OR NOT 1 N33D TO F1ND 4 N3W G1RLFR13ND >;]

You smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks.
> 
> I might do another chapter fic because people seemed to enjoy this one enough, probably something a bit more complex than "generic high school au" (even if generic high school aus are the best aus)
> 
> Thank you for everyone that left this story kudos, and especially thank you to everyone that left feedback/comments. You guys keep me going.


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